Cap. All things, that we ordained festival, Turn from their office to black funeral: Our instruments, to melancholy bells; Our wedding cheer, to a sad burial feast; Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change; Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse, And all things change them to the contrary. Fri. Sir, go you in,-and, madam, go with him;And go, sir Paris;-every one prepare To follow this fair corse unto her grave: The heavens do lour upon you, for some ill; Move them no more, by crossing their high will. [Exe. Capulet, Lady Capulet, Paris and Friar. 1 Mus. 'Faith, we may put up our pipes, and be gone. Nurse. Honest good fellows, ah, put up; put up; For, well you know, this is a pitiful case. [Exit Nurse. 1 Mus. Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended. Enter Peter. Pet. Musicians, O musicians, Heart's ease, heart's ease; O, an you will have me live, playheart's ease. 1 Mus. Why heart's ease? Pet. O, musicians, because my heart itself plays -My heart is full of wo: O, play me some merry dump, to comfort me. 2 Mus. Not a dump we; tis no time to play now. Pet. You will not then? 2 Mus. No. Pet. I will then give it you soundly. 1 Mus. What will you give us? Pet. No money, on my faith; but the gleek:2 I will give you the minstrel. (1) Dumps were heavy mournful tunes. To gleek is to scoff, and a gleekman signified a minstrel. 1 Mus. Then will I give you the serving-creature. Pet. Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger on your pate. I will carry no crotchets : I'll re you, I'll fa you; Do you note me? 1 Mus. An you re us, and fa us, you note us. 2 Mus. Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit. Pet. Then have at you with my wit; I will drybeat you with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger -Answer me like men: When griping grief the heart doth wound, oppress, Why, silver sound? why, music with her silver sound? What say you, Simon Catling? 1 Mus. Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound. Pet. Pretty! What say you, Hugh Rebeck?1 2 Mus. I say-silver sound, because musicians sound for silver. Pet. Pretty too!-What say you, James Soundpost? 3 Mus. 'Faith, I know not what to say. Pet. O, I cry you mercy! you are the singer: I will say for you. It is music with her silver sound, because such fellows as you have seldom gold for sounding Then music with her silver sound, [Exit, singing. 1 Mus. What a pestilent knave is this same? 2 Mus. Hang him, Jack! Come, we'll in here; tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner. [Exeunt. (1) And the jocund rebecks sound.' MILTON. ACT V. SCENE I-Mantua. A street. Enter Romeo. Rom. If I may trust the flattering eye of sleep, My dreams presage some joyful news at hand: My bosom's lord' sits lightly in his throne; And, all this day, an unaccustom'd spirit Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts. And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips, Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd, News from Verona !-How now, Balthasar? Bal. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill; Rom. Is it even so? then I defy you, stars!-Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper, And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night. Bal. Pardon me, sir, I will not leave you thus: Your looks are pale and wild, and do import Some misadventure. Rom. Tush, thou art deceiv'd; Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do : (1) i. e. Love. Hast thou no letters to me from the friar? Bal. No, my good lord. Rom. No matter: get thee gone, And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight. [Exit Balthasar. And hereabouts he dwells,-whom late I noted Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds, Ap. Enter Apothecary. Who calls so loud? Rom. Come hither, man.-I see, that thou art poor; Hold, there is forty ducats: let me have A dram of poison: such soon-speeding geer? As violently, as hasty powder fir'd Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb. Ap. Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law Is death, to any he that utters them. Rom. Art thou so bare, and full of wretchedness, The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law: Doing more murders in this loathsome world, I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none. John. Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho! Enter Friar Laurence. Lau. This same should be the voice of friar Welcome from Mantua: What says Romeo? Here in this city visiting the sick, And finding him, the searchers of the town, |